


Silence

by raunchyandpaunchy



Series: Sun's Dawn [8]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Femslash February 2019, Forced Orgasm, Impact Play, One Shot, Overstimulation, Safewords, Silence Kink, Smut, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 13:42:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17705327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raunchyandpaunchy/pseuds/raunchyandpaunchy
Summary: It's a simple enough command—stay silent, no matter what—but Ingun's spent enough time with Astrid to know that it's never as easy as it sounds.





	Silence

“Not a sound, dear,” Astrid said, “or you’ll know real pain.”

Ingun gripped the sides of the bench, remaining prostrate, keeping her breaths even. She looked forward, watching as candlelight cast shadows across the Sanctum, thankful that Astrid had at least granted her sight this time. Time seemed to drag on as she waited for Astrid’s onslaught—pain? Pleasure? Something in between? Ingun could never be sure. Part of the agony was the suspense, the gruelling build-up that made whatever followed that much more effective.

This time, it was the soft, cool touch of Astrid’s fingers tracing across her bare skin, dancing across each curve and dip of Ingun’s body—exploring each contour of her from her slender neck to her willowy thighs, varying the smoothness of her touches with her fingernails scratching and etching into Ingun’s skin, undoubtedly leaving angry red lines in their wake. Astrid would trace over somewhere which would make Ingun twitch and choke back a cry, and Astrid would zero in on the exact area, running her sharp nails over and over the flesh until every nerve ending in Ingun’s body begged for her to stop.

Still, she wouldn’t beg out loud.

The cold caress of leather came next—a warning of what was to come. It ran across Ingun’s thighs, her arse, her cunt, pressing her own slickness against her. Ingun bit her lip, desperately suppressing a moan.

“You’ve got my favourite crop dirty.” Ingun could hear the ire present in Astrid’s voice. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

Ingun knew Astrid was setting a trap—answer and disobey, stay silent and ignore her question. Not that the question had a correct answer.

“Nothing?”

The crop clashed against Ingun’s buttocks with force, drawing out a small grunt. Ingun hoped dearly, naively, that Astrid hadn’t heard it.

“Oh, little girl, you better hope you don’t make a noise like that again.”

Another crack of the crop struck its way across Ingun’s arse. And another. And another. Ingun began to lose count as the crop’s cruel bite layered over her tender flesh, moving its way from her behind to her thighs. She had to bite her fist and grip the wood of the bench until her knuckles turned white to stop from crying out, hating intensely that her one main way of riding out pain had been robbed from her. Her skin burned, white-hot as her temper, blood and adrenaline coursing through her veins as throbs of searing heat pulsed through her punished flesh.

Astrid’s fingers trailed across Ingun’s cunt, hitting her like a jolt of shock magicka. The sensation overwhelmed her, and a gasp escaped her before she could stop it. They moved further upward, circling her clit, seemingly coaxing every last drop of self-control Ingun had out of her. It was obvious now, what Astrid wanted. Failure. A reason to deliver retribution. To see her come undone and come apart. Ingun would be damned if she was going to give in that easily.

Ingun stayed silent as Astrid continued teasing and stroking, building her up to the brink of collapse. In the silence, all she could hear was her own blood rushing in her ears, and the obscene, slick sounds of her excitement as Astrid worked her over. She might’ve been embarrassed, had she possessed the capacity to feel shame. Instead, she only focused on how good it felt, and how to fight off the feeling that was growing and building fiercely in her core.

Astrid’s other hand wrapped around her hip, easing her into the rhythm that her body so badly wanted her to follow. “That’s it, don’t fight it,” she purred, the softness in her voice betrayed by the harsh welts that still stung under her grip. “Succumb to it, like we both know you want to.”

Ingun glared, refusing to give in even as her body screamed at her to do so.

“There’s no use hiding behind your pride here, dear. I know exactly what you are. So why don’t you fuck my hand and come all over it like a desperate little slut?”

Ingun’s orgasm hit her out of nowhere, breaking like a dam as cries wrenched their way from her throat. Her cunt throbbed against Astrid’s hand as she continued stroking, refusing to relent even as Ingun squirmed against her, the sensations near-unbearable. Ingun couldn’t think, could barely breathe, couldn’t do anything except get swept under the waves of pain-pleasure currently crashing over her. She was lost in it, keening and whimpering into her fist, tears and saliva running down her face. Every last nerve in her body ached and pulsed with warring sensations; release and tension, agony and ecstasy. Half of her wanted to beg Astrid to stop, to tell her it was too much, while the other half begged for more, knowing it would never be enough.

After what seemed like hours, Astrid let her go, wiping her slick-soaked fingers across her still-aching arse.

“How are you holding up?” Astrid’s voice was clear and commanding, yet velvet-soft. “Speak.”

Ingun steadied her breathing. “Fine, Mistress. I’m sorry I—”

“Oh, I know you are,” Astrid drawled, “But that isn’t quite good enough. I think you’ll only truly be sorry when you need to break your silence to beg me to stop.” Ingun could hear her lift something from the rack behind. “When you use the one word you know will actually make me stop.” A whoosh cut through the air, and Ingun’s body recoiled in recognition. “You do remember that word, don’t you?”

“Nirnroot.”

“And if you need me to stop the scene completely?”

“Nightshade.”

“Good.” Astrid’s tone darkened, and Ingun felt the cane trace across her bottom. “Let’s see how long you last this time.”


End file.
